


by the light of the night

by toxica939



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, Panty Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: He can't resist a quick sift through Robert's dirty clothes at the top of the washing basket but, although he obviously doesn't turn up any normal underwear, there's nothing approaching lace in there either.Maybe he did imagine it.ORthe one where Aaron's surprisingly into the idea of Robert in ladies' knickers.I know, I know. Just trust me.





	by the light of the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflager](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflager/gifts).



Aaron thinks he's seeing things, at first.

It's Sunday afternoon, he's sprawled bloated and fat in the arm chair, debating popping open the button on his jeans. If he didn't think Liv would make fun of him forever, he'd go for it.

Robert's pottering about in the kitchen, clearing away the aftermath of an epic Sunday dinner.

The air smells like perfectly pink lamb, there's a terrible black and white film on the telly, Liv's got a sleeping Seb snuggled in the crook of her arm and gravy on her t shirt. It's the perfect time of day, everyone quiet and sleepy; time slow and thick like treacle.

And then Robert bends down to stack the dishwasher.

Aaron doesn't choke or anything, but he's pretty sure his mouth drops open, body tensing. Because Robert's shirt's come untucked, ridden up, slice of tanned flesh on show where Aaron's knows it would be soft with the downy patch of hair there. Between the skin and the leather of Robert's belt is what can only be described as the delicate lace waistband of a pair of expensive looking underwear. Knickers, really. Girls' pants. Whatever you want to call them.

Aaron's husband is casually clearing away a stack of dirty plates, in his softest jeans and the navy button down Aaron bought him to wear on their honeymoon. He's been fluttering around the kitchen all afternoon, driving Aaron mad with his wandering hands and soft, red mouth. And all the time, while Aaron was feeding mashed potato to his son, arguing with Liv over who got the last of the honey glazed parsnips, all that time, he was wearing... _that_.

Aaron closes his eyes for a second, shakes his head, but when he opens them Robert's still there, still muttering to himself and still wearing ladies' underwear.

Aaron's about to open his mouth to say – lord knows what, when Seb starts to stir, face screwing up ready to cry and the moment slips away.

:::

Robert's already in the shower when Aaron slips through their bedroom door that night, Seb finally settled down again after another half an hour of teething complaints. He can't resist a quick sift through Robert's dirty clothes at the top of the washing basket but, although he obviously doesn't turn up any normal underwear, there's nothing approaching lace in there either.

Maybe he did imagine it.

Robert certainly doesn't mention anything about it when he slides into bed, scrubbed pink and grapefruit scented, and he rolls Aaron underneath him before he can think of a way to bring it up.

“Hi,” Robert says, coming up on top, elbows in the mattress, chest crushing Aaron into the bed.

Aaron makes a show of gasping for breath, hands skimming up and down Robert's sides before settling on his arse. He's got Robert naked on top of him, as if he's going to hold on to anything else.

“Good weekend?” Robert asks. He presses a kiss to Aaron's chest, another to his neck, trailing them up until he's sucking softly at the skin beneath Aaron's ear.

Aaron's trying to concentrate, he really is, but the world's turning fuzzy at the edges, Robert blocking out the light.

“It was alright.”

Robert chuckles, tongue flicking hot and wet across Aaron's skin. Aaron can feel where he's hardening in the crease of Aaron's hip, it would only take a quick shuffle to get them lined up, get some friction going. He can feel it building in the pit of his stomach, his desire to get his end away warring with his desire for Robert, to let Robert take charge.

Still, there's only so much a bloke can take. “Are you going to faff about all night?” he asks.

Robert's grin is blinding when he lifts his head, delighted. “I'm sorry, is there something you'd rather I was doing?”

He sucks softly at Aaron's bottom lip, barely more than a tease, and his smile stretches even wider when Aaron picks his head up to chase after him.

Aaron flops back down. “Cocktease.”

Robert's mouth drops open, more amused than offended, Aaron would wager. He watches the shine of Robert's tongue moving behind his teeth, tries not to think about that tongue on him.

Robert ducks down again, gives Aaron the kind of deep, rhythmic tongue kiss that has his hips rolling, hands pulling at Robert's bum to get him where he wants him.

“What's got you so revved up tonight?” Robert asks. His mouth is still open, out of breath now.

It would be the perfect opportunity to bring it up, while he's got Robert pliant and getting there, right in his arms. He wouldn't make it sound like he was teasing, he could let Robert know he's kind of into the idea without either of them burning up in embarrassment.

But then Robert slips down his body unexpectedly, hot mouth sliding over Aaron's erection, and Aaron's too busy shoving a fist in his mouth to muffle his shout of pleasure to say anything at all.

:::

The thing is, Aaron's pretty sure he knows where Robert got the idea. It's been a running joke for years now, any time Robert lets Aaron borrow his laptop for something Aaron will leave ridiculous search requests in Robert's internet history.

There was the leather daddy debacle, the time Robert nearly had a coronary about the possibility Aaron was into watersports, and an incredibly awkward conversation, over a freshly cooked Thai curry, where Aaron had had to explain what figging was.

The panty kink thing was a joke. Obviously it was a joke. Robert's totally _in_ _on_ the joke now.

So either Robert somehow knows Aaron better than he knows himself, or Robert actually owns ladies' underwear.

Aaron's a little bit disturbed to realise that either possibility is equally likely.

Either way, it doesn't matter. It was a just a joke.

He resolves not to think about it any more. That's that.

:::

He thinks about it all the fucking time.

They're watching TV in the evening, lights down low and kids in bed? He's thinking about it. They're sharing a car to work, Robert slapping his hands away from the radio? He's thinking about it. They're shuffling around each other, all elbows, in the cabin? He's thinking about it.

But he still doesn't say anything.

The possibility that Robert could be sat across from him right now, studiously tapping away at his laptop, black lace under his fancy suit trousers, it's maddening. Aaron's been nursing a semi for days and he has no idea what to do about it. He doesn't even know _why_ he's so into it. There's nothing remotely feminine about any of the parts of Robert that get his dick hard.

But the idea of stripping Robert down to nothing but lace, the way he'd look, straining at the material, flushed in the face. Aaron can't get it out of his head.

Robert's staring at him when he looks up, deep line between his eyebrows. “You alright? You've gone red.”

Aaron swallows, looks down at the pen in his hand. “Fine, just hot, innit?”

Robert's left eyebrow rises and Aaron can actually _feel_ himself turning redder. It's November and the portable heater's broken. Robert's wearing two coats. It's fucking freezing.

_Just ask him. Just say it._

“Robert-”

“Oh thank god, I was freezing my bits off in that truck,” Jimmy's saying, hustling through the door and chafing his hands together. “Put the kettle on will you Robert? I need to talk to you about the Smithfield contract.”

Robert lifts his eyebrows at Aaron, a _what can you do?_ and Aaron shelves it for another day.

:::

“So what's he done now?”

Aaron glances up from the pint he's nursing when Liv climbs up into the seat beside him at the bar. “You what?”

“Rob. What's he done now?”

“What are you on about?”

She rolls her eyes. “You. You barely said two words to him last night, you've been all...weird and sulky all week. More than usual.”

“No I haven't.”

He watches her look up, exchanging a look with him mum across the bar, no doubt. “Alright. What have you done then?”

He shouldn't be taking it out on her. There shouldn't be anything to take out on anybody. It's no one else's fault he'd being such a wuss about it.

Of course, knowing that doesn't actually make any difference to his personality. “Nose out, ay?” is what he says in the end, swigging back the dregs of his pint and and stomping off.

It's bright out, air crisp and cold, still a hint of last night's frost on the grass. Aaron breathes his lungs clean, hands shaking.

This is getting ridiculous.

:::

He finds them in the end.

He doesn't even mean to, Robert sent him upstairs to put the washing away and there they are, tucked at the bottom of Robert's sock drawer. They're softer than they look.

Aaron sits on the edge of the bed, legs gone weak. They're pretty big, for what they are, but he guesses Robert's not a small bloke, and Aaron would be a liar if he said he knew much about girls' clothes. They're a fine mesh of floral lace, see-through everywhere except the crotch. Aaron's heart is beating too fast just holding them.

“Did I put that red t shirt of Seb's in with our stuff?” Robert's asking, wandering into their room. He stops dead when he sees what Aaron's holding.

Aaron takes a breath, tries not to feel like he's the one who's been caught out. “I think we need a chat, don't you?” he says, as gentle as he can when his blood's roaring in his ears like this.

Robert backs up. “I can explain.”

Aaron doesn't want him to explain, but fair's fair. “Okay.”

He watches Robert scrub a hand over his face, through his hair, finally settle with a fist on each hip, like he's bracing himself. “They're not. I promise you, I'm not.”

“Robert, spit it out.”

“They're mine.”

Aaron frowns. “Yeah, obviously. What are you- Robert, I know you're not cheating on me.”

Robert visibly sags in relief. “I'm not. I promise you.”

“Robert, I saw you,” Aaron waves a hand, the empty one. “The other week. You had them on.”

Robert's eyes close, pained. “I can explain that as well?”

“You asking me or telling me?”

Robert sighs, turns to knock his forehead against the door frame. “I was just...”

Aaron takes pity on him, when he looks so uncomfortable he can't even finish the sentence. He makes his way over, pants discarded on the bed so he can take Robert by the shoulders, turning him until Aaron's arms can slip around his waist.

“Just what?”

Robert sighs helplessly, hands restless on Aaron's arms. “I don't know. Trying something?”

Aaron nods, hopefully encouragingly. “And?”

Robert rolls his eyes, finally starting to look a bit more huffy and a bit less embarrassed. “I don't know. What do you want me to say?”

Aaron head butts him gently in the jaw. “I haven't thought about anything else,” he admits. “It's been driving me mad, thinking you might have them on.”

Robert's laugh is shocked, relieved. “I haven't,” he says. “It was just that once," a pause. "Really?"

Aaron rolls his eyes, curls his fingers in Robert's shirt. 'Obviously. Would you do it again?”

Robert considers him carefully, and it's sheer stubbornness that stops Aaron's face turning red. He holds Robert's gaze, because there's no point to any of this, is there? If they can't be honest with each other.

Robert tips his head. “I could probably be persuaded.”

Which is how Aaron ends up belly down on the bathroom floor, getting the life fucked out of him while the shower thunders, forgotten, in the corner.

Still, he got what he wanted.

:::

He makes Robert drive them into town, just for tea at the new burger place he's been wanting to try. They drink brightly coloured cans of craft brew, split a portion of chips and drip burger juice all over the table. It'd be the sort of normal, standard date night Aaron has grown to treasure if it wasn't for the low-rate thrum of awareness buzzing between them.

Because Aaron knows what Robert's got on under his jeans. And Robert knows that Aaron knows.

It's sexier than it has any right to be and Aaron finds himself sneaking little glances at Robert through his eyelashes, like it's four years ago and he's still trying to figure out what the inside of Robert's mouth would taste like, if it'd be as bitter as he was.

“Stop it,” Robert says, dabbing at his lips with his napkin like a posh twat.

“Stop what?”

Robert fixes him with a look. “Looking at me like that. You're the one who wanted to come out.”

He did, he'd wanted, just once, to be thinking about it and _know_ that it was true.

But still. “Looking at you like what?”

That gets him a head shake, that helpless smile Robert does, when Aaron's being an arse and he's charmed by it anyway. Aaron loves that smile. “Like that,” Robert says, stabbing at him with his fork. “Like you'd rather be eating me.”

Only Robert could get away with saying something like that with a straight face.

“You think a lot of yourself, you know that?”

Robert shrugs, his eyes are deep pools of shadow under the overhead light. “You love it.”

“I do,” Aaron agrees. “I love you.”

Robert sucks his bottom lip up into his mouth, lets it pop free, all red and wet and tempting. “I love you too,” he says. “I must do to be sat here like this.”

“Oh yeah, like you're not getting off on it too.”

Robert leans closer, elbows on the table, head ducked in. When he speaks it's casual, conversational. “Is that right? How hard are you?”

Aaron kicks him under the table. “Fuck off.”

Robert sits back laughing, pops another chip in his mouth to chew on it obnoxiously. Sometimes, Aaron seriously questions his taste.

Except he doesn't, does he? Because the fit as fuck, absolute car crash he's married to might be taking the piss, but he's still sat there, lace under denim, making Aaron's mouth water. He's been hard for what feels like hours, who is he even kidding?

Aaron balls up his napkin, tosses it into the pool of grease on his plate. “Right. Time to go.”

:::

He gets Robert stripped out of his shirt on the sofa, riding him down into the cushions with a knee either side of his hips. Robert goes easily, lifting his arms under Aaron's direction until he's half naked, chest heaving. Aaron leans down to kiss across the exposed skin, close his teeth around Robert's nipple to make him hiss.

Robert's hips are rolling beneath his own. He can finally feel that Robert's as hard as he is. Although the hand Aaron had had smoothing up and down his thigh all the way home probably contributed to that. It's reassuring, if not a surprise.

Aaron's leaning up to pull his own t shirt off when Robert grabs his wrists. “No,” he says, fingers curling into cuffs. “Leave it on.”

Aaron feels himself go hot all over, shivers with the force of desire curling in his belly. Robert makes his knees weak, always has.

He lets the material go and Robert releases him so Aaron can smooth his palms up over Robert's chest, soak in the width of him.

“You have no idea,” Aaron tells him, hands still rubbing. “How fit you are.”

Robert grins. “Yes I do.”

But Aaron's not having it. They can joke all they want about Robert's massive ego and how annoyingly vain he can be. But it's bullshit. Robert knows he's good looking, sure, but he has no fucking clue how much Aaron wants him. It's like he was tailor made to hit every button Aaron didn't know he had. He's gorgeous enough to sink ships, lord knows Aaron's done some things to be ashamed of because of that face.

But here they are. Together. Happy. Silly enough to scratch even the most unlikely of itches.

Aaron would do it all again in a heartbeat.

He cups Robert's face in his hands, presses a dry little kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

“I'm not just doing it for you, y'know?”

“I know. But thank you anyway.”

“Liv's right, you have got soppy. Take me to bed you big sap.”

And honestly. Aaron's going to take him to _pieces_.

:::

It takes Aaron a good half hour of kissing, stretched out together on the bed, to get Robert pliant enough that he just goes when Aaron rolls on top of him. Robert's restless, hands fluttering across Aaron's back, his shoulders, up into his hair. Aaron's lips are tingling but he loves it, taking his time like this. Nothing winds Robert tighter than a slow burn.

He's as hard as Aaron is, straining against his jeans, but Aaron's erection is almost an after though. This isn't about him.

He slides down Robert's body to kneel between his thighs, drops kisses right the way down his chest, tongue lapping at the skin above his belt buckle.

Metal clinking on metal, the drag of the zipper, Robert's aching groan as the pressure on his dick is relieved. Aaron spreads the fly of Robert's jeans open and just takes a second to breathe.

He can see everything; Robert's dick, fat and leaking through the open weave of the lace. The pants are too tight, biting into Robert's skin, faint red line visible across his waist. He rears up, dragging Robert's jeans down and off, needs to see the heavy spread of Robert's thighs, see him laid out and breathless, totally bare apart from that scrap of lace.

“Yeah?” Robert asks. He's got his hands fisted in his own hair, flushed pink down to his nipples and scratched the same from Aaron's beard everywhere else. He looks edible.

Aaron nods, gaze wandering down to fix firmly back on the straining length of him, trapped and trussed up. He might as well have tied a bow around it, for all that this is a gift. He sinks back down on his elbows to breathe over it, watch Robert twitch. “Oh yeah.”

The lace is rough under his tongue, as hot as Robert's body. Aaron busies himself laving Robert's dick through the material with the flat of his tongue, firm pressure. He sucks over the head, tasting Robert where he's wet, listens to Robert shout. He keeps it up, relentless, sucking over Robert through the lace. Robert's head is tipped back when Aaron glances up, the taut line of his throat and the point of his chin all Aaron can see. He watches Robert's arms come up over his head to slap at the headboard when Aaron turns his head, drags the rough of his beard over him.

Robert's hissing, legs spreading, moaning like a wave now, and Aaron nearly gets him out, he really does, everything in him desperate to swallow Robert down. But he wants this, if it's the only time he's going to get it, he's doing it right, keeps mouthing over him in sucking kisses.

Robert comes like the crack of a whip, in the end, body snapping tight and then curling in on itself. Aaron pins his hips, opens his mouth over the head to feel the wet heat of it spread under the material, suck it through the lace to get the taste of Robert in his mouth, where it belongs.

Robert's dazed when Aaron crawls back up his body. Aaron's still fully clothed, hard on like a pulse in his jeans. He presses it to the cut of Robert's hip for a second, just to feel it.

“So,” Aaron asks, feeling impossibly smug about the far away look in Robert's eyes. “Was it good for you?”

Robert's jaw works for a minute, tongue slipping out the wet his lips. “I don't know what I was expecting,” he says. “But it wasn't that.”

“Good though, yeah?”

Robert nods. “Yeah.”

Aaron cups his cheek in a hand, thumb rubbing under Robert's chin to tilt his head for a kiss.

Maybe he'll get Robert to return the favour sometime.

  


 

**Author's Note:**

> join me on tumblr, i'm vckaarrob


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